Falling In Flames
by aparupa.chakravarty
Summary: It's the 19th century France. The king is back in his throne and the lives of the common people are worsening with each passing moment. Amidst all of this is Grantaire, a student. He laments about love and drowns himself in alcohol. Time passes and soon he sees that the world around him is falling apart. He finds what he always longed for but he has to make life-changing decisions
1. Chapter 1

**Falling In Flames, **

**A Les Miserables fanfcition **

**By Aparupa Chakravarty**

**_Chapter 1_**

It was a cold winter night when the young man walked in blindly into the room. He smelled of alcohol and dirt. "Grantaire, is that you?" said a young man. The lights were out. There was no electricity for a couple of hours now. Grantaire groggily tried to make his way towards his bunk. The moonlight was peeping in through the drapes that hung from the window pane. It was just another cold winter night in the 19th century France.

"Grantaire? Did you drink again?" inquired the same young man. In reply he received an unintelligent laugh. "R, why don't you listen to me?" Combeferre tried to reason as he continued, "drinking like this, without any limit is only going to do harm to your body and nothing else." Grantaire just muttered profanities under his breath. "Did you listen to a single word I said?" Combeferre whispered, making sure he didn't wake the other boys up. Right above his bunk, Feuilly muttered something in sp. "Grantaire?" Combeferre sat up and tried a failed attempt to focus on Grantaire's face but the moonlight wasn't enough. After a brief moment of silence, Grantaire finally replied, "'Ferre, will you please stop talking in God's name? My head is throbbing and I cannot think straight. We shall have this conversation tomorrow morning. But for now, I ask you to leave me alone."

"But R…" Combeferre tried to speak but was cut off. "Not right now." Grantaire said, his voice hinting anguish.

"Do you want me to fetch you some water, at least? You might feel better." Combeferre tried.

"Go off to slumber 'Ferre." Grantaire said, and lied down on his bunk. He could feel his friend's eyes burning holes in him but ignored it. He was in no mood for all of this tonight.

"Alright." Combeferre finally sighed moments later and lied back down on his bunk. He was worried about Grantaire. He had started drinking more often and it was doing him no good. Rather than buying books for his education, Grantaire spent all his money on alcohol and cigars. Their other friends always helped him arrange for the necessities for education but how long could that go on? Combeferre felt that rather than making the _amis_ toil for him, he should take up his own responsibilities. That is how Combeferre was. His friends called him 'Ferre. He adored all of his friends and always worried about them. To them, he was the guide and kind of a life-support. He always made sure that everyone was happy and content. He was a handsome man, with fine blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. While thinking about his friend, Combeferre drifted off to sleep.

Meanwhile, Grantaire tossed and turned in his bunk for he had drank too much that evening. All his friends were asleep and slight snores were heard in the room. His head was throbbing yet he didn't close his eyes. Instead, he looked at the moon and smiled. His smile was weary and he seemed discontent. The moon looked beautiful that particular night and gave away an aura of hope and desire. The moonlight lighted up Grantaire's face. His hair was shabby and his attire was covered in dirt but he did not really mind it. He felt, for a moment, content. As if he was complete. But that feeling was short-lived as Grantaire slowly drowned in his loneliness. It was not that he did not love his friends. He did, with all his heart he did. But he felt that love from his friends was not enough. He wanted someone to love him for who he was. Someone to cherish him. Someone who could give him hope when he lost all.

He was lonely and empty that way. He waited and waited but that special someone never came along. Did his soul mate even exist? Grantaire often found himself wondering. Will he ever find someone? He let out a small laugh. It was probably just the alcohol messing with his mind. He was still looking at the moon. The light got dull as the clouds hid the moon behind them. The room felt chillier so Grantaire pulled the covers up to his chest. The nights grew colder with each passing day and it felt like France would never see the face of summer again. "Oh summer, I wish you would come soon." He said out loud. "Summer who? Did R find himself a girl?" He heard Courfeyrac asking from his top bunk. "Are you out of your mind Courfeyrac?!" Grantaire exclaimed. He got frightened there for a moment. "Well you are the one who drinks without a limit so no, I am not out of my mind, monsieur." Courfeyrac let out a small laugh.

"It was so funny, wow. You should try your hand at comedy, Courf." Grantaire said, sarcastically.

"Now now, R. Tell me about this lady Summer." Courfeyrac tried asking his friend.

"Summer who?" Grantaire was now confused.

"You just said that you want Summer to come soon." Courfeyrac stopped for a moment realizing his stupidity. "You were talking about the season, weren't you?" He said, embarrassed.

"And they call me drunk." Grantaire muttered under his breath.

"Heard that." Courfeyrac replied.

"Glad you did." Grantaire said sternly and that did shut his friend up.

The clock ticked one. It was past midnight and Grantaire wasn't able to sleep yet. His head was throbbing and his mind was going in circles. He was again regretting drinking so much that evening yet, this whole situation seemed some-what hilarious to him. He tried to give up his sleep and focused on the moon again. Being the dreamy character he is, R started imagining things. The moon intrigued him even when he was a child. But then again, he did not use to get drunk and dream about the moon. Things were different when he was a child. Everything was… happy. Grantaire did long for that happiness sometimes but that did not mean that he was not content with what he had now. He believed that lamenting over the past was just a waste of time. After all, the past is the past. One can neither get it back, nor can one change it. It was just there to teach you lessons of life and nothing else. With all these thoughts wandering the drunkard's mind, soon darkness took over him and he fell into a deep sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

"Get up!" Someone shouted.

"What?" Grantaire tried opening his eyes but they felt heavy as ever.

"Wake up, Grantaire!" The same person shook him.

"God, leave me alone." R murmured.

"You would want to see this, my friend." It was Courfeyrac. "Get up now." He repeated himself. It was a task to get Grantaire ready for the day.

"What is it?" The drunk sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh, I don't know. Joly said it was something happening outside. Just get dressed, I will wait for you." Courfeyrac said, as a matter-of-fact.

Grantaire rubbed his eyes again. They were burning. It felt as if he just rose from the bed of Lucifer and ascended on earth. His head was throbbing and it was worse than the night before. It might just explode in a few moments, Grantaire thought to himself.

"Are you going to even stand up, R?" Courfeyrac still sat on a stool next to his friend's bed. He was a very charming boy, a ladies' man, as he's referred to. It was true, though. He was quite popular with the women. His wit and his patience always proved to be an advantage for him. He wasn't tall and lanky, instead he was a bit short and a little bit pudgy, you could say. But he had a handsome face – eyes that could make you feel as if he could stare right through you, perfect set of white teeth and shiny black hair which was either combed back or sometimes left untamed. You could never get tired of looking at him; and of course, the charmer would stare right back at you with that playful smile which made every girl swoon.

"Oh come on now, stand up and get dressed or so help me God!" Courfeyrac exclaimed in exasperation.

"Alright, alright I am up. You can leave; I shall join you in a while." Grantaire finally stood up. His legs felt wobbly.

"Oh I can't leave without you or Combeferre will have a go at me." R's friend said with a small laugh.

"This boy, I swear." Grantaire laughed as he walked towards the small dresser which the boys shared.

"There is someone outside. The boys are there only. Meeting the 'someone new'." Courfeyrac said, peeping out of the window.

Grantaire didn't really care, though. It was just another day.

He went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. His eyes were red and his hair was a complete mess. His attire was covered in dirt and he did not really remember what had happened the night before. Not that something unusual had happened.

He took a quick bath and cleaned himself up. Then he wore his day's attire and looked in the mirror one last time again. He looked presentable – his hair was washed and combed, his eyes looked brighter and his clothes were nice and fresh.

He opened the door and saw Courfeyrac sitting where he had left him before – on the stool next to his bed.

Grantaire cleared his throat as an announcement that he was ready.

"Ah, isn't someone looking charming!" Courfeyrac exclaimed with a smile.

"Sure, anything you say." Grantaire smiled playfully at his friend. "Shall we leave then?" He asked.

"I suppose we should. They must be waiting for us." Courfeyrac replied.

The sky was blue and the wind kissed Grantaire's face. It was chilly so he pulled his coat in a little tighter. Not many people were outside and the streets were almost empty; just a few kids were running around, playing. Courfeyrac paced and Grantaire had a hard time catching up with him.

"Can't you walk a little slower?" Grantaire panted.

"We are already late, 'Taire." Courfeyrac said sped up even more.

After jogging through the streets of Paris, Grantaire and Courfeyrac finally heard the giddy laughs of their friends. They were sitting under a tree in the park near café Musain and talking merrily. As soon as they saw the two entering the park, they smiled and stood up. Grantaire smiled back and them and raised his hand in acknowledgement. Suddenly he saw a mop of blonde curls move behind the back. He had friends with golden hair, but none of his friends had golden locks like that. He tried to see the man's face but the stranger had his back towards him.

"Ah, 'Taire and Courf are finally here!" Jehan exclaimed as he turned around. Apparently he hadn't seen the duo come in.

"Hello boys." Courfeyrac said and gave them a warm smile.

"Grantaire, Courfeyrac, I want you to meet someone. He is new here at our university." Combeferre said as he gestured at the stranger.

Grantaire really wasn't paying attention while Combeferre told them about the new man. He looked around and saw little plants growing out of the soil. Spring was around the corner, he thought.

"Grantaire, hey look here." Courfeyrac nudged him.

"What?" Grantaire mused and slowly turned to look at the stranger and he felt his heart stopping. That man was beautiful – his eyes were blue, brighter than the summer sky; his built was muscular and those golden locks. What could anyone say? Those locks framed his face in a perfect manner. He smiled as Courfeyrac shook hands with him.

Grantaire just stood there in awe until someone cleared their throat. He then woke up from his state of trance and went to shake hands with him.

"I'm Julien Grantaire, but… but please call me Grantaire." He said, stuttering.

"Gabriel Enjolras." The stranger smiled and shook his hand.

All of the boys sat down again in a circle and began chatting like young school girls. Jehan was saying something about making a necklace out of flowers, which Grantaire thought was a ridiculous idea; Joly had his glasses on and was reading his book, probably something related to his yearly examinations which were 'round the corner. He was a medical student and was usually stressed because of the unnecessary load of studies. He looked to his side and saw Bossuet, Bahorel and Feuilly chatting about something he could not fathom and right in front of him were Combeferre, Courfeyrac and Gabriel.

"So, Gabriel what are you studying?" Courfeyrac asked him.

"Please call me Enjolras." He laughed and continued, "I have taken up law. Let's see how it treats me."

"Grantaire, 'Ferre and I too are law students. I'm sure you will enjoy studying here with us." Courfeyrac laughed.

As soon as he mentioned Grantaire's name, Enjolras looked across at Grantaire, dead in the eye. Grantaire all of a sudden got very nervous. He scratched his head in a manner of confusion while Enjolras smiled at him. 'Should I smile back?' Grantaire wondered. Instead of smiling he just gave him a cold stare, which was not at all normal of him.

"'Taire come over here." Combeferre gestured to the spot next to him. So Grantaire got up and sat next to his friend. Or you could say, right next to Enjolras. He could feel his body tense up as soon as he sat down. Did he smell of alcohol? He hoped he didn't.

"So Julien, tell me something about yourself." Enjolras said, attempting to start a conversation.

"Grantaire." He corrected him.

"Alright Grantaire," Enjolras said, stressing on 'Grantaire', "tell me something about yourself."

Courfeyrac and Combeferre could feel the air around them tense up so they awkwardly smiled.

"I like to paint." Grantaire said after a moment.

"Ah yes, 'Taire here is actually an excellent artist." Courfeyrac nudged his friend.

"Oh really? I would love to see some of your paintings then." Enjolras smirked at Grantaire.

"Hmm, I don't know about that." Grantaire said.

"Oh Grantaire, don't act so childish." Combeferre said as his pushed his glasses up his nose.

"What?" Grantaire gave him a look.

He wasn't very comfortable showing his paintings to the beautiful man in front of him. What if he hated them? What if he made fun of them? He felt as if his paintings were not good enough. He didn't always show his paintings to his friends either. They were his personal treasure.

"It's alright. I do not want Grantaire to feel uncomfortable by stepping in his private space." Enjolras tried to smile.

"No, it's not that…" Grantaire said but couldn't finish his sentence.

"It is fine, my friend. You can show me your works when the right time comes." Enjolras patted Grantaire on his back in an attempt to show his politeness.

"When the right time comes." Grantaire mused as he felt a spark running up his back.


	3. Chapter 3

All the young men had chatted the day away. When the last rays of the sun submerged below the horizon, all of them walked back to café Musain, casually cracking jokes once in a while. They thought of having a drink and returning back a bit early as their classes were starting from the following day. The café was a short walk from the park where the boys spent their day so they reached within a few minutes.

As soon as the group entered the café, there was a small fit of giggles and a bunch of girls rushed over to Courfeyrac and surrounded him. He blushed and greeted each and every one of them and went over to another table to sit. "Didn't I tell you that he's a ladies man?" Said Combeferre. He smiled at Enjolras who looked utterly confused.

"Ah, I can see that." The latter replied with a laugh.

Meanwhile, Grantaire was already at the counter, talking to Martha. She was a woman in her late 50s but had the energy of women half her age. She had two sons but both of them had families of their own. Martha's husband had died several years ago when the plague had spread in all of northern France. Martha's youngest child, a girl named Hariette had also perished. "They look down at us and send their blessings." Martha always used to say with a bitter-sweet smile.

"Oi son," said she to Grantaire, "who's that one over there? Ne'er seen him!" and gestured to Enjolras.

"Calls himself Gabriel Enjolras. He is a new law student." Grantaire told her.

"He has got a pretty face, doesn't he?" Martha said with a warm smile.

"Oh Martha, stop it!" Grantaire said with a laugh.

"R! What are you doing there? Get us some wine!" Shouted Combeferre from the table. Enjolras was there too, talking to Joly and making wild hand gestures. Grantaire wondered what they were talking about. "Hold on a moment, I am getting your drinks." He said as he leaped over the counter and opened the doors of a small box-like closet which hung on the wall. He took out six bottles of wine and passed them over to Annette, a young girl who worked at the café. "Dearie, would you passing these bottles over to my friends?" Grantaire asked politely.

"Oh, of course not!" Annette blushed slightly as he handed her four bottles of wine and gave her a polite smile.

"_Merci_." Said he and Annette laughed shyly.

Grantaire took two bottles to the table where Combeferre, Joly and Enjolras were standing. "Ah, there we go." Combeferre said as Grantaire handed him one bottle. He poured equal amount of wine for all the three boys and passed them to Enjolras and Joly.

Meanwhile, Grantaire had already uncapped his bottle of wine and was drinking directly from it.

"Will he drink that all by himself?" Enjolras quietly asked Joly.

"Oh yes, don't you worry. This drunk can handle it all." The latter said and chuckled.

Enjolras's tedious eyes went over to Grantaire. His black hair was shining in the light that fell upon him. He looked tired yet was drinking like there was no tomorrow. His eyes were dull but still there was an aura of liveliness around him. Enjolras was quiet intrigued by the drunk in front of him.

"Why are you staring at me?" Grantaire asked suddenly, startling Enjolras.

"Excuse me?" Enjolras cleared his throat.

"Do you like what you see?" Grantaire winked and got back to his drinking.

"Oh no, not really. I was just thinking how a man could drink such an amount of wine in one go." The latter tried to reason and sipped some wine from his tumbler. It felt like his throat was on fire.

"They don't call me 'the drunk' without any reason." R said and gave Enjolras a close mouthed smile.

Enjolras was getting irritated by the minute. So he went over to the table where Courfeyrac was still sitting with the bunch of girls. His cheeks were red and his eyes were watery. It was prominent that he was drunk.

"Ladies, ladies!-" Courfeyrac laughed loudly and he gestured towards Enjolras "meet my friend, Enjolras. Come Gabriel, sit with us." The girls giggled as they made space for him.

"Enjolras, these ladies are beautiful, aren't they?" Courfeyrac said as he gave a peck on the cheek to the girl sitting right next to him. One girl stood up in haste and walked away. It was clear as crystal that she got jealous.

"Courfeyrac, I think we should get you and Julien back. You two need some rest." Said Enjolras.

"Julien, who? You mean Grantaire? That man will not stop drinking but I can assure you that he will find his way back home. Although, I do feel like getting some rest. Would you like to accompany me?" Courfeyac asked.

"Of course. I can't let a drunk man wander around in the streets of Paris at this hour." Enjolras laughed as he stood up, ready to leave.

"Oi Combeferre! I'm taking Courfeyrac back home. Shall I come back here?" He asked.

"Oh my friend, I think we will retire for the night. All of us are very tired. Our classes are starting tomorrow. You will be present, I'm sure?" Combeferre said, while walking towards his new friend.

"Oh, no. I start my classes from the day after. So I suppose I will see you all then only?" Enjolras said.

"Ah, alright. Why don't you wait a few more minutes so I can tell the others that its time to get back? We could leave together that way." Combeferre smiled as Enjolras nodded his head in affirmation.

While Combeferre got his friends to leave, Grantaire was still leaning on the table and drinking. Enjolras scoffed. He developed a sudden sense of dislike towards Grantaire. He did not like people who had no control over them whatsoever. Meanwhile, Combeferre walked over to R and whispered something in his ear to which the latter loudly laughed and got back to his drinking. Combeferre slowly patted his back and walked over to Enjolras. "Let's go then, shall we?" He asked.

"The others?" Enjolras looked confused.

"They are coming. Jehan asked me to wait downstairs for them, he is getting the rest of the bunch." Combeferre said while leading Enjolras down a flight of stairs. He followed quietly.

" 'Ferre, may I ask you something?" Enjolras scratched his head sheepishly.

"Anything." The former said, giving a warm smile.

"Is anything wrong with Grantaire? Why does that man drink so much? He looked so desperate and…" Enjolras trailed off.

"Oh Enjolras, what can I say? Grantaire is a complex soul. It is hard to understand him." Combeferre did not know what to say. How could anybody describe Grantaire?

"What a disgrace." Enjolras muttered under his breath.

"What did you say?" Combeferre turned towards him.

"Nothing, nothing. Look the boys are here!" Enjolras sighed in relief as he saw the rest of the men approaching. It distracted Combeferre.

"We mustn't waste anymore time. It is late as it is. We shall see you day after tomorrow then, Enjolras." He said as he waved over to their friends.

"Oh, will you be able to go on your own? Should I escort you back to your home?" Asked Combeferre.

"I will be alright.-" Enjolras said and then he looked over to the group and noticed something "Grantaire?" He asked.

"He will be back later." Combeferre said in a curt manner.

"Oh." Enjolras did not really feel any sympathy for Grantaire now.

"So, we shall see you when you join the university." Combeferre said and walked over to his friends, "Goodnight, Gabriel. I hope you had a good day!" said he.

"I definitely did. _Merci, mon amis_." Enjolras bowed in appreciation and turned around to leave.

"Goodbye Enjolras!" Exclaimed the boys as they walked away, some of them quite tipsy.

"Goodnight, _friends_." Smiled the blue-eyed man.

He had never felt so happy before. He made friends and those boys were gems. He was glad that his life was slowly starting to fall back in place. Oh, how much he longed for happiness and he was getting a taste of it now that he was in Paris.

The night was growing darker and Enjolras was walking back to his house. He had rented a small cottage near the Seine. Yes, he was quiet rich. His father was a high-rank naval officer and his rest of the family lived in Calais. His mother was not a working woman. But then again, the income that his father earned was sufficient to keep the family comfortable. Their lot wore the finest of attires and were up to date in every sense.

But just materials aren't enough to make a man happy. Where was the love? Where was the sense of belongingness? Enjolras had always wondered. Even though he had everything he wanted, he didn't quite fit in his family. He always argued, for he saw the world in a different way. His thoughts and feelings were different from that of his parents. He was on a quest for knowledge. He did not just want to give up schooling and join his father in the navy. No, he was not ready for that. So he told his parents and his father got him a rented cottage for him in Paris so he could study law – he always wanted to study law.

Enjolras had reached his house. The air blowing from the Seine was making the weather colder than it already was so the boy clutched his coat tighter and got in quickly. He locked the door behind him and went to his bedroom straightaway. He was knackered and wanted a goodnight's sleep. So, he took his clothes off and changed into his night suit. He closed his eyes and finally darkness took over him.

Enjolras slept with a smile on his face and he felt like the pains of his past were gradually washing away.


	4. Chapter 4

The night was getting colder with each passing moment. Grantaire was drunk out of his mind again and he was sitting on a boulder right outside Musain. It was well past midnight and Martha was locking the doors of the café. Just when she was about to leave, she noticed Grantaire, sitting there gloomily.

"Son, go on home. Don't stay out here all night." Martha said, as she softly caressed his cheek.

"No…" Said Grantaire, his eyes were bloodshot. Too much drinking did that to him.

"Grantaire, no. Go back home. It's not safe out here." Martha was getting really worried.

The drunk just laughed as his response.

"Oi, boy! Here, come here!" She called out to a young man who was walking past. She recognized him as one of the university students.

"Yes, madame?" The man said, confused.

"This boy has drunk too much,-" She said, gesturing to Grantaire, "can you escort him back home, please?"

"But… I don't know where he lives." Said the man, scratching his head.

"I'll tell you the way, but just take him home." Begged Martha.

She explained the way to the small house where Grantaire and his other friends lived, making sure that the boy understood the directions clearly.

"Did you understand, son?" She asked him.

"Yes, yes." He said and repeated the directions to make sure that he did not get it wrong.

"Ah good, that is good." Martha said and shook Grantaire, "Son, this young man here will escort you back home. Go along with him." She then made him stand up with some help from the other man. She put Grantaire's arm around the man's neck and made sure R was stable enough to move.

"Thank you, monsieur. God will bless you." Martha said as she saw the two slowly trudging away. She sighed in dismay and quietly walked towards her house.

The two men were halfway there, for they were going very slowly. Grantaire literally hanged from the other man's torso and he had to be some-what dragged. Then suddenly, the drunk started singing. It wasn't even a song. He was saying the most random words in a melody. The other man was getting annoyed by the minute.

"What your name is, boy?" Grantaire said. He couldn't even form a proper sentence.

"Grégoire." He said, in utter irritation.

"Ouh la la!-" Grantaire laughed loudly, "A Grégoire goes to the same university as me!" He exclaimed.

"I am him, Grantaire. I am a medical student. I'm friends with your friend Joly." Grégoire wasn't sure whether Grantaire understood a single word he said.

"Oh, Joly! Joly is my friend. I am Joly's friend. We are friends! Are you friends with Joly?" Grantaire rambled on.

"I… nevermind Grantaire." Grégoire sighed in dismay.

After walking for a few more minutes they finally reached the small two-story house. To his surprise, the lights were still on. Grégoiredragged Grantaire over the two small steps which lined the door and knocked loudly, while Grantaire snored quietly.

Combeferre opened the door and was astonished to see Grantaire in such a state. He helped Grégoireto bring the passed out drunk to the small living room. Prouvaire, Bossuet, Bahorel and Feuilly watched with pitiful eyes as Grantaire was brought into the room. "Oh God, R. What did you do?" Combeferre sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

They stood there motionless for a few minutes observing Grantaire when Prouvaire broke the silence.

"Aren't you Grégoire?"

"_Oui_, I was asked by Martha, of Musain?-" Grégoire continued "to bring him home. He couldn't obviously come back on his own."

"Oh thank you monsieur, thank you so much!" Combeferre shook the other man's hand.

"We apologize for Grantaire's behaviour." Feuilly said in a grave tone.

"Yes, we do. Our heartfelt gratitude won't be enough." Bahorel said while sighing.

"Oh no, it is alright. I had just got out for a small walk when Martha stopped me. Grégoiresmiled.

"Will you like something to drink? Wine? Some hot tea? It will get you warmed up." Asked Combeferre.

"I would love some tea. It is freezing outside!" Grégoire exclaimed.

Just then Courfeyrac walked in panting. "I couldn't find him!" He breathed heavily.

"Courf, he is home. Grégoire here brought Grantaire home." Combeferre said.

"Oh God!-" Courfeyrac exclaimed as he went to examine his passed out friend, "What the devil did you do, you fool." He whispered.

"Let it be now. Bossuet, can you carry him to his bed? I'll make tea for all of us." Prouvaire said as he went to the kitchen.

"I will help you." Feuilly said and went along with his friend.

"Please sit down, Grégoire. Rest." Courfeyrac said while sitting down and sipping the water he had just poured. Combeferre and Bahorel too sat down.

"We were worried sick." Said Combeferre, "- we didn't know what to do. So Courfeyrac went to Musain. I suppose by the time he reached there, you two had already left.

"Ah yes, I when I reached all the lights were out. I got so anxious because I had no idea where Grantaire had gone." Courfeyrac said while rubbing his tired eyes.

"Then what did you do?" Asked Bahorel.

"Then I looked around a bit. There was no one there. Who else would be out at this hour?!" Courfeyrac said with exasperation.

"Oh, Grantaire needs to mend his ways." Bahorel said quietly.

There was a moment of silence.

"So, Grégoire I've seen you at our university. What do you study?" Combeferre inquired.

"Oh, I'm a medical student. I am friends with Joly." Grégoire smiled.

"Yes, of course. Joly is a good man." Combeferre chuckled.

"Definitely he is." Agreed Grégoire.

"Boys, I think I'll go to bed now or I wouldn't be able to wake up tomorrow." Courfeyrac said while getting up.

"Yes Courf, rest now. We have our first day at the university tomorrow." Combeferre said, in a fatherly tone eyeing Courfeyrac as he walked to the bedroom.

"Oh, didn't you hear? The university is closed tomorrow." Grégoire said, surprised that the boys hadn't heard the news.

"What? Why is it closed?" Bahorel asked, astonished.

Courfeyrac had already gone to bed so it there were just the tree of them.

"Oh, well-" Grégoire started but he was interrupted by Feuilly who came in with a tray of biscuits and Prouvaire trailed behind him with a kettle and seven tea cups. They placed the two trays on the table and sat down.

"Where are the others?" Inquired Prouvaire.

"Courfeyrac went to bed and I suppose Bossuet fell asleep too." Bahorel told them and continued with a grin, There is good news though."

"Oh what is it?" Asked Feuilly.

"Grégoire was just about to tell us until you two came in." Combeferre said while he poured tea in five cups, one for each of them.

"Sugar?" He asked Grégoire.

"No, thank you." Grégoire smiled and took his cup.

"So, what is the news?" Reminded Feuilly.

"Oh yes, the news." Grégoire said and placed his cup down on the table.

"The university is closed tomorrow and I suppose the day after that too." He said.

"The day after too? But why is that?" Combeferre was curious.

"We were out all day today so I didn't get the chance to take a look at the newspaper." Bahorel said.

"Me neither." Added Jehan.

"Well, what is it?" Feuilly was getting anxious with every passing second.

"The university is closed because the people's man is dead." Grégoire said, as a matter-of-fact.

"What?!" Bahorel exclaimed.

"Yes friends, General Lamarque is dead." Grégoire whispered in a grave tone and the room was left dead silent.


	5. Chapter 5

The streets were filled with people whose eyes showed nothing but distress. They were screaming, shouting and what not. The only man who cared for them, the man of the poor, was dead. It seemed as if all of Paris had rioted. Everyone was worried. What will happen now? Will the poor get a chance at living? The righteous never spared a glance for those who lived on the streets. They were the invisible ones – with no one to go to and no one who cared. After all, the only one who tried to make their lives better was dead now.

Enjolras woke up to a loud crash. He quickly rubbed his eyes and rushed to his living room and was astonished. Someone had broken his window. He walked over to the damaged window and quietly examined it. Then he noticed a rock lying on the floor in the middle of some shattered pieces of the glass. Enjolras looked outside and saw the riot on the streets. He went out of the door to see what the commotion was all about.

"Oi, boy! Here, come here!" Enjolras called out to a little boy who was running around with a bunch of other kids.

"Garçon!" Enjolras called again and this time the boy came rushing to him.

"Yes?" He asked.

"Why are all these people out? Do you know what is happening?" Enjolras asked him.

"Oh monsieur, haven't you heard? General Lamarque is dead!" The boy said. He had a very thick accent and Enjolras found his way of talking quite humorous.

"What did you say?" Enjolras asked him again.

"General Lamarque is dead! Have you been living under a rock?" The little boy said with astonishment.

Enjolras thought for a moment. General Lamarque? He had heard about him. He was a very influential man in Paris and the Parisian peasants looked up to him. "How did he die?" He asked.

"Gavroche, let's go!" Another little boy tugged on his friend's small waistcoat, whose name, Enjolras figured was Gavroche.

"Word is out that he was ill for too long; could not survive." Gavroche said in a curt manner.

"Oh, poor man." Enjolras sighed.

"Poor man? What about us? What about the thousands of people who will not have a chance at a better life now that Lamarque is dead? I ask you monsieur, to please think about what you are saying." Gavroche said.  
>Enjolras was startled. How could such a young child have such strong views about the world? He will be a leader some day, the older boy thought to himself.<p>

"Pardon me, I should have not said it." Enjolras apologized.

"Don't apologize to me, monsieur. I am no one." With that Gavroche turned around and ran away with his bunch of friends.

Enjolras felt overwhelmed. The way that little kid spoke stirred something in him. He sympathized with the poor of the land. But what could he do?

Meanwhile, Combeferre was already up. He could not sleep all night. He knew that the death of a political leader this big would invite a lot of riots. The streets were not safe, he figured. Grégoire had gone home late the night before after having some tea and giving the boys the devastating news. Combeferre walked to where Courfeyrac and he slept and tried to wake his friend up.

"Courfeyrac, are you awake?" He shook him. In response he got a groan and with that Courfeyrac turned to the other side.

Combeferre was smart enough to realize that his friend did not want to be woken up. He turned around and he stood near the window when he heard someone coming downstairs. He rushed to the living room and saw that Feuilly was quietly coming down the stairs. He smiled at Combeferre when he saw him and asked,

"Did you get any sleep, 'Ferre?"

"Oh, not really. I just tossed and turned." Combeferre said with a sigh.

"Ah, me too. I was up thinking." Feuilly said with a small shrug and went to the kitchen.

"Do you want some tea?" He asked Combeferre, who went and sat on a stool next to the table.

"Sure, thank you." The blue-eyed boy said, with a small smile.

The world is a big place, with different kinds of people – some good, some bad, some lost, some found. The world needed more hope, it deserved more happiness. But when your only source of hope is gone, what will you do? You'll scream, you'll shout, you'll tear your hair out, you'll cry. But after that? What will you do after you have hurt yourself more than you can take? You will wait, like any other human would do. You will wait until you find hope and peace. Sometimes, the source is external and sometimes it has to be you. When the world is shattering around you and you have no place to go, you will have to be your source of hope. You will have to ignite the blaze of life inside you and keep treading on. Without any hope, the world would have been dead long ago but it's still there, isn't it?

Combeferre had rested his head on the table and he sat there quietly, trying to clear his mind. He worried too much about everything. He was sad because general Lamarque had died. But what could he do?

A few moments later, Feuilly walked in with two tea cups and a kettle brewing with hot tea and sat down next to his friend. They talked about the current situation and after a while the two sat quietly in a comfortable silence. Combeferre too noticed the sadness in Feuilly's eyes.

Feuilly was the oldest of the friends and was the only one who did not attend school with the other boys. He said he'd rather do something he is good at so, he made fans. Yes, he was a fan-maker. He was orphaned at a very young at but he lived with his uncle for a while until he was abused physically by him. His uncle used to drink a lot and hit him until the 10-year old Feuilly turned blue and black and cribbed in pain. After a long, hard struggle, he finally ran away. He did not stop. He didn't stop until he reached the next district. It was in the outskirts of Paris. He used to sleep in parks, stables and where not and used to indulge in petty thefts whenever necessary. He was a brave boy. Living on the rough streets of Paris, Feuilly grew up to be a strong man, who was very kind. He found solace in making fans. He liked making things and fans were like his best friends. He sold fans and whatever money he earned went into his survival.

He met Bahorel first, when he saw the latter get into a street brawl. The two became good friends and Bahorel introduced Feuilly to his other friends. It was not until Courfeyrac found Feuilly sleeping under a tree one night that he brought him to their shared house. Feuilly then told the boys about his dark past and started living with them. He owed his friends his life because without them, he would've just been another scum of the street. He found hope in their friendship and he loved them dearly.

Much to Feuilly's distaste, Grantaire was a drunk. It stirred painful memories in him. Even after many attempts, Grantaire failed to convince his friend that he will never turn into a monster like his uncle.

Feuilly always told Grantaire to control himself, but knowing Grantaire, he knew that all his attempts were a fail. But even though, he loved Grantaire and he never failed to cheer his melancholic friend up.

Meanwhile, everyone except Grantaire and Bossuet had woken up and joined Combeferre and Feuilly. They talked for a bit and decided they won't go out for the day because the streets were not safe.

"Should we ask Enjolras to join us?" Courfeyrac asked.

"We could but we don't know where he lives, Courf." Prouvaire said.

"Maybe he lives somewhere near Seine?" Courfeyac said.

"We don't know that, do we?" Said Combeferre.

"Can we at least go to Musain?" Asked Courfeyrac.

"No, Courfeyrac. There are riots on the streets. You do not want to get caught up there." Feuilly said.

Courfeyrac sighed and went to his room.

"We could go to the café, 'Ferre. What will we do here all day?" Bahorel said.

"Let's see. But we will have to be very careful." Combeferre said in a fatherly tone.

"Yes, we cannot get involved in the riots. Blood will be shed today." Feuilly said with disdainful eyes.

"Okay, we will be careful. What about Grantaire? Is he in a condition to go out?" Bahorel asked.

"God no, I would not let him drink today again. It is getting out of hand now." Combeferre said and continued, "I will stay home. You all can go. I'll keep Grantaire company."

"Are you sure? We can stay…" Prouvaire tailed off.

"Yes, we can if you want us to." Bahorel said with a small smile.

Combeferre knew that his friends wanted to go out so he smiled and said "No need, we will be fine."

"'Ferre are you sure?" Feuilly said with worry.

"Yes we will be perfectly alright. Wake Bossuet up and get Courfeyrac. Then you all can go. I will wake Grantaire later. Let him sleep." Combeferre said and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Alright, I'll call Bossuet." Jehan volunteered and went upstairs quietly.

Moments later, he was back in the living room and said that Bossuet was up. A few minutes passed and Bossuet rushed downstairs and greeted everyone.

"We are going right now?" He asked.

"I suppose. Say, where is Courfeyrac?" Feuilly asked.

"Hold on, I will get him." Bahorel said and went to the room that he, Courfeyrac and Jehan shared.

Courfeyrac was sleeping again. Bahorel laughed and quietly shook him.

"Courfeyrac, we are going to Musain." He said.

"Let me sleep." Courfeyrac murmured.

"Aye boy, Pénélope would be there." Bahorel whispered in his friend's ear.

Courfeyrac shot up on his bunk and gave a sly smile. "Let's go, shall we?" He said.

Bahorel laughed loudly and the two went to the living room.

"So, we are going?" Courfeyrac looked at Combeferre with proud eyes.

"You are, I'm not." Combeferre said.

"Why not?" The former asked.

"He is going to stay at home with Grantaire." Prouvaire said.

"Oh, then should we get going?" Courfeyrac asked.

"Yes, but we will come back by lunch." Feuilly said and smiled at Combeferre, knowing that Grantaire wouldn't want to stay home for long so they will come back early.

With that, the boys went out and took the longer way to Musain. Combeferre waved at them from the window and went upstairs to take a small nap.

Meanwhile, Enjolras was too getting restless at him house. He had nothing to do, absolutely nothing. After a moment of utter confusion, he decided he will go to Musain. What else could he do at a place where he barely knew anyone? He didn't know where Courfeyrac and the others lived and neither did he know any other person he could spend time with. So, he got dressed and went outside.

He crossed Seine and was walking when he bumped into someone.

"Monsieur, are you blind?" It was a girl and Enjolras was startled.

"I asked you something." The girl muttered and started picking up the apples which had fallen from the crate she was carrying.

"I'm… I am sorry, mademoiselle." Enjolras said. He was overwhelmed by her beauty. Her brown hair was falling over her face and her brown eyes screamed rage. Yet she gave off an aura of hope.

"You better be sorry." With that, she got up and started to walk away.

"Wait!" Enjolras called, and held her wrist.

"Monsieur leave me." The girl squirmed in his touch.

"Just tell me your name." Enjolras blushed.

The girl without even turning around repeated herself, "Monsieur, I said leave me."

"I am just asking your name." Enjolras said in a shy tone.

She turned around and said, "Why do you want to know my name?"

"You are beautiful, mademoiselle." Enjolras ran a hand through his mop of curls.

The girl looked at him, skeptically and said, "Azelma."

"Azelma? I'm Gabriel Enjolras." The boy said.

"Does it look like I care?" She said and jerked his hand off of hers and started to walk away. Enjolras was intrigued by her demeanor and went after her.

"Azelma, wait!" He called.

"What do you want?" She shouted.

"I just… Nothing. I just wanted to tell you how beautiful you are." Enjolras said with a small smile.

"I better go now." With that, Azelma disappeared in the crowed.

Enjolras stood there motionless and he wished that he would see the beautiful brown haired girl again.


End file.
